


The Substitute

by EyesOverEons



Category: Bleach
Genre: F/M, Mind Manipulation, Mystery, Not AU, Orihime-centric, Post-TYBW, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesOverEons/pseuds/EyesOverEons
Summary: Orihime is a normal girl living a normal life. She goes to school, hangs out with friends, and secretly crushes on a boy in her class. The perfect teenage life. Still, she can't help but feel like she's forgetting something important; the weird dreams of some orange-haired swordsman certainly aren't helping. [slight IchiHime - Not AU]
Relationships: Inoue Orihime/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 23





	1. -Hello, Halcyon Days-

Orihime gazed out along the ruined throne room in front of her, chest heaving and heart pounding in her throat. _It's over._ She thought, trying to calm her racing thoughts, _It's finally over..._

The heavy scent of blood clung to her nose and choked her throat. The dying curl of an oppressive reiatsu lessened its iron grip around her lungs. She was shaking.

_It's over._ She repeated. And then, _He won._

The thought spurred her into action faster than anything else could. In an instant she was standing, though the wave of relief threatened to topple her. The other people in the room took notice of her stunned movement, a few of them beginning to ask her what was wrong. She didn't pay them any mind.

There was somewhere she had to be.

He had won. Orihime was sure of that. Even far away, she could feel the comforting warmth of his reiatsu, though it was distinctly tired and strained. Orihime's strides gained strength and purpose with each step, determination guiding her to where she was needed. It was without question that he was injured. Of course he was. She had seen the damaged heaped upon him earlier.

No one could hope to fight god and come out unscathed.

It was up to her to heal him.

He needed her.

Upon arriving at the scene, she froze.

He stood, ragged and bleeding and victorious. He turned, catching her eye. Even holding a hand to a wound in his side, even with dark blood matting his bright hair, he smiled at her. Warmth and pride radiating from his expression. She couldn't stop her own smile if she tried.

He took a step towards her

And then another

And then a wall of people in black robes separated them, pulling them apart.

All at once Orihime's happiness shattered as they cut her off from the one person she so desperately wanted to be close to. Rough hands held her back, and she could do nothing but watch as he was dragged away.

A scream tore through her throat, ringing in her ears long after her voice gave out.

The ringing grew louder, transforming into a harsh, chirping tone.

_Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-beep! Bee-bee-beep!_

Orihime's eyes snapped open to the sound of her alarm, mind reeling from the bizarre dream she had been having.

Wait. That was the sound of her _second_ alarm. Which meant—

"I'm late!" She cried as she jumped out of bed, racing to complete her morning routine as quickly as possible. The specifics of the dream already slipping from her consciousness.

She shoved books into her bag haphazardly, pausing only for a moment by the front door.

_Am I forgetting anything? Phone, wallet, keys, homework? Check._

Something itched in the back of her mind. She shrugged. Getting to class on time was more important than whatever it was. Her friend was probably already waiting for her.

Sure enough, "Good morning Orihime!" Arisawa Tatsuki called loudly as Orihime locked the apartment door behind her.

"Oh! Hi Tatsuki-chan!" For what it was worth, Inoue Orihime was not having a good morning. But she wouldn't let that get in the way of her own outwardly positive attitude.

The two made idle chatter on their walk to school, meeting up with a few other people along the way. The group talked and bickered until the school came into view and discussion turned fully to the upcoming test and how no one was ready for it. Orihime couldn't keep her mind focused on the conversation.

Waking up late had been bad enough, but the strange feeling from the already-forgotten dream reamined. She was no stranger to odd dreams, it was almost guaranteed with her overactive imagination, but this one left her stomach churning uncomfortably, even though the details had already vanished from her thoughts. Not to mention she realized her lunch was still sitting in her fridge and— oh! Tatsuki was talking to her.

"Helloooooo! Earth to Orihime!" Tatsuki waved a hand in front of Inoue's face.

Orihime blinked, blushing slightly, "Ah sorry! Guess I'm a bit distracted today." She was a bit distracted every day.

"So? What about you, Inoue?"

"Eh? Me? What was the question again?"

"We were wondering how long you studied last night." Ryou repeated.

Michiru sighed, looking concerned, "Are you okay? You seem kinda out of it today."

Not wanting her friends to worry, Orihime waved her hands around and shook her head. "Ah no! I'm fine! I just had a strange dream, that's all. I don't even remember what it was about. Nothing to worry about! Nothing at all!"

Not fully convinced but not wanting to push the issue further, the girls continued their conversation without her; though occasionally threw a few concerned glances at each other.

Despite waking up late, Orihime was glad to see that there was still time before homeroom. Her eyes scanned the small crowd for the handful of people that were her friends. Sado was seated at his desk, looking over some last-minute notes. Ishida was calmly reading a personal book, no doubt all ready to ace the upcoming exam. She moved her attention to the third row desk closest to the window, eyes fixed on the person who sat there. He was currently caught in the crossfire of an exchange between a very animated Keigo and a very disinterested Mizurio.

"Hi Kur—"

The world shuddered. For the briefest of moments, the person she was looking at was a stranger. Orihime blinked, and everything snapped back into motion, her attention slowly tracing up the familiar lines and angles of the desk's occupant.

Polite posture. Soft round features. Large black eyes. Short dark hair. The little curl of a cowlick sticking off the top of his head.

Everything she expected to see.

She gave her head a shake, trying to get rid of the feeling that was the exact opposite of deja-vu. "Hi Kuramoto-kun!" She tried again.

At the call of his name, the boy by the window looked over and offered a sweet smile. Orihime fought to keep the blush from showing. Kuramoto Haruki was shy and bookish, but not stuck up about it like Ishida could be. He didn't talk much, but the few conversations she had with him were charming and funny in such a surprising way. Oh, and she had been maybe kind of crushing on him since they had met.

Orihime was about to walk over and talk more, when the teacher strutted in and started class. Kuramoto sent her an apologetic smile as he carefully pushed Keigo back into his own chair.

The school day went by quickly and without incident. Orihime felt confident about her math test, and Tatsuki had shared half of her lunch out of pity. The hustle and bustle of school was enough of a distraction to pull her out of her foggy thoughts. But then the final bell was ringing and she was following the flood of students out of the building and the strange dream came back to her.

It wasn't the first dream like that she had experienced, she thought with a frown. The past two months had been filled sporatically with similar night visions. All of them were hazy and only half-remembered, but held similar themes of fighting and blood. She felt like she should be afraid in these dreams, but a comforting presence was always by her side, keeping her safe and—

A shock of orange flitted across the periphery of Orihime's vision. She turned, but whoever it was had disappeared into the crowd of people walking down the busy street. A frown tugged at her features. As far as she knew, she was the only person in Karakura with such a bright hair color. Other than the thugs and delinquents, of course. She shrugged and continued on her way home. Halfway there, her phone rang. The caller ID flashed 'Sora' across the screen and her grip tightened a fraction.

It had to have been pretty late where he was calling from. Or maybe it was really early. Time zones always confused her. She quickly pressed 'Accept' and brought the phone to her ear. "Hey Onii-chan! No, you're not interrupting anything..."

-0-

The week slipped by easily. Each day, the feeling left by the not-quite-nightmare faded more from Orihime's mind. Despite that, something still felt distinctly off. As if she had left her apartment and had no idea if the stove had been left on. It nagged at the back of her mind. Something about the world felt strange in a way she couldn't explain.

One day at lunch, she had attempted to talk to her friends about her concerns. They had brushed off the fears and blamed her usual overactive imagination. Even Ishida had raised an eyebrow when she confided to him at the craft club meeting.

Late in the evening on Friday, Orihime found herself walking along the familiar roads and alleys of her hometown. She had no destination in mind and simply let her feet take her wherever. Wherever turned out to be a residential street in the quiet part of town. Her walking stopped at the edge of a rectangle of orange light, spilling out from a modest family building. She stared at it for a long while.

"Do you need anything?" A voice called, startling Orihime out of her haze. A scruffy, dark-haired man stood in the open door ahead of her. "I'm just about to close up, but if you've got a cold or something, I can take a look at it real quick if you want."

She blinked owlishly, finally glancing at the sign above the door: Kurosaki Clinic.

The world spun and Orihime's mind blanked. She had walked by this building before and never paid it any attention, she was sure of it. But something about the name paired with the soft orange glow pricked at her brain.

_Kurosaki._

The name was familiar on her tongue in a way that was unexplainable.

She _knew_ that name.

The scent of strawberries filled her nose as her knees buckled beneath her.

-0-

Orihime awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright the second she regained consciousness. This usually wouldn't have been a problem, unless someone else was hovering their face over her to check for injuries or something. Unfortunately, that was exactly the case. She blinked once, rubbing her forehead and glancing over at what— or more accurately, _who_ — she had hit. It was the same man who had been talking to her just before, toppled over and clutching a hand to his bleeding nose. Oops.

She opened her mouth to apologize, but before she could say anything, more people entered the room: A pair of girls looking just a few years younger than Orihime herself.

"Daddy! Are you okay!?" The lighter-haired girl asked, fretting over the man on the ground.

The darker-haired girl rolled her eyes, "He's fine, Yuzu. Quit overreacting." Yuzu wasted no time in stuffing handfuls of gauze in her father's face.

The door swung open again, a fourth person entering the now-crowded room. She had long auburn hair, a shade or two darker than Orihime's own. "What's all the commotion in here?" She spoke, her voice like honey.

The man scooted his way across the floor to the woman's feet. "Masakiiiiii~ My beautiful Karin is being so mean to me!" He cried in fake hurt.

Masaki frowned, but Orihime could see the playful glint in her warm eyes. "Now Isshin, is that any way to behave in front of a patient?" She chided. Her attention turned to Orihime, "Are you okay? You took quite the spill outside. Luckily, you didn't hit your head." She carefully corralled her daughters out the door to let the impromptu appointment finish.

As Isshin got to his feet, Orihime took in the room she was in: a small doctor's office filled with jars of bandaids and drawers of medical equipment. The bed she was seated on was firm with crisp, stiff sheets.

The blood had stopped dripping from Isshin's nose, and he went about checking her vitals.

"Thanks for helping me, Kurosaki-san. S-sorry about your nose." Orihime stutterd, bowing deeply after her check-up had finished

Isshin waved her concern away, scribbling the last of his notes on a clipboard. "Ah, no need to be so formal, I'm just doing my job. You should be more worried about yourself. Lucky I looked outside when I did."

Orihime hummed, thoughtful. Yeah. Lucky. "Well, it's gotten late. I should get going. Thanks again—"

"Nonsense! You said you didn't have dinner yet, yeah?" Orihime nodded, she hadn't felt hungry earlier. "You should eat something before you go. Hypoglycaemia is no joke. Masaki and Yuzu will be happy to have someone else try their newest recipe. Come on."

That was how Orihime found herself shuffled into a cozy kitchen filled with the scent of warm butter and melted chocolate. Karin pulled up a chair for her and Yuzu deposited a plate of cookies and a mug of hot tea. Orihime was surprised how easy it was to fall into comfortable conversation with the family. The girls asked her about hair products and school while Isshin dutifully cleaned up the kitchen, all while Masaki kept a steady stream of snacks headed her way. It should have been awkward acting so at-home around complete strangers, but Orihime found herself relaxing easily around the family; as if she belonged there.

The family of four was almost idyllic, full of more love and warmth than Orihime thought possible. And yet, there was something missing that she couldn't quite put her finger on. At a lull in the conversation, Orihime's eyes were drawn to the stairs that led to the second floor, half expecting someone else to appear from around the corner and join the merry atmosphere. A deep longing sadness tugged at her heart and she glanced again at the empty stairway.

It was fully dark by the time Orihime managed to extricate herself from the warm embrace of the Kurosaki family. She would have to bring some bread from her work to pay back their kindness at some point. But for now, her thoughts were muddied, filled with the same sense of confusion that followed one of her strange dreams. Something was wrong with the world around her. Or maybe something was wrong with her own mind. She couldn't be sure and that uncertainty only made everything worse. She knew her imagination could go haywire sometimes, but this felt like something more. The sensation nagged at her all the way back to her apartment.

After the evening in that lively house, her own place felt excruciatingly lonely. Her own parents had died in a car accident when she was young and her older brother was traveling abroad for work for at least another year. The dark and empty room felt way too spacious for her liking. She felt exposed and observed, the walls peeled back to reveal a thousand eyes all trained on her alone. She couldn't reach her bed fast enough.

She huddled under the blankets, feeling miserable. Her stuffed bear Enraku clutched tightly to her chest. The soft fabric tickled her chin, her cheek rubbing against a rough seam. Huh? Why was there a seam there? Curious, she held the plush at arms-length above her. The fabric was smooth and unblemished. But... she had just felt...

She narrowed her eyes, fingers tracing a path down the front of the bear's face: an imaginary line that ran from the forehead under its left eye. Her focus tightened, narrowing in on that one detail, imagining the seam she had felt, believing it to be real. It shimmered. Then snapped into place. Orihime sucked in a breath, unwilling to blink. It was like her vision had doubled, seeing two Enrakus layered on top of each other: One with a jagged, stitched up seam and one without.

What?

Even after she hesitantly closed her eyes for a second, it stayed.

WHAT!?

"This isn't real." She whimpered, suddenly afraid.

What ' _this'_ was she referring to?

Without even meaning to, she fell asleep; her short-circuiting mind deciding to just turn off instead of dealing with whatever horrible and arcane secret she may have just unearthed.

Her dreams were fitful, worse than before. In them, white corridors stretched on in an endless maze. A great black-winged demon clawed open her chest, ripping out her still-beating heart. The comforting presence by her side was _gone—vanished—dead—_ twisted into something horrible and inhuman. She cried. This was all Wrong Wrong Wrong! He always wanted to protect her; why couldn't she couldn't protect him in return?

She wanted him back!

_Where was he!?_

Gray-brown eyes snapped open, searching the darkness of her room for something that wasn't there. Her heart hammered in her throat and tears spilled down her cheeks. Cold sweat dotted her forehead as an equally icy feeling twisted its way through her veins. Her lips parted, the whispered word shattered the silence like a gunshot.

"Ichigo..."


	2. -Lament for the Lost-

_Ichigo._

The name was still stuck in Orihime's mind as she solemnly made her way to school on Monday morning. The usual friend group chatted as they did every day. Blissfully unaware. They were all very concerned about Orihime's withdrawn mood, Tatsuki especially, but she had sternly told everyone that something personal had happened and she just needed to work through it alone. They had begrudgingly accepted to give her some space.

She couldn't pay attention to what the teacher was saying when class finally started. How could she possibly think about something so trivial as the upcoming career day when the whole world was shattering around her? She couldn't even bring herself to look in Kuramoto's direction. There should be someone else in that seat. There should be—

Ichigo.

Her heart twisted She had— no… not only her— _everyone_ had forgotten about him.

How could something like that happen?

How could the world just forget the orange-haired, fiery-tempered young man who had risked his life for everyone more times than she could count?

He wasn't just missing; it was like he had never existed. The world had reshaped around his absence. After the name had come to her in the middle of the night, more memories resurfaced. Orihime remembered her parents beating her. She remembered Sora dying in an accident only to return years later as a hollow. She remembered _hollows_ and spirits and shinigami and— she traced the edge of her beloved hairpins, instinctive knowing that her fairies would come forth if called. The interaction with the Kurosaki family played through her thoughts with a grim clarity. Tatsuki— some _other_ Tatsuki— had told her about Masaki's death. The sacrifice she made to save her son from a danger he didn't understand. But Masaki was alive now; just like Sora.

And Ichigo was gone.

As soon as the lunch bell rang, Orihime approached a select handful of people and practically dragged them up to the roof. It must have been a bizarre sight for the rest of the class: little Orihime marching forward in single-minded determination with the odd assortment of Tatsuki, Ishida, and Sado all trailing behind her in puzzlement.

"Orihime, you're really starting to worry me." Tatsuki said with a frown, trying not to side-eye Ishida too much. She had never liked the stuck-up class president.

As if to purposefully prove Tatsuki's annoyance well-founded, he pushed up his glasses with a sigh, "Inoue, I hope whatever it is you wish to talk about is quick. I am supposed to be at a student council meeting in a few minutes."

Tatsuki was about to berate Ishida for his callous disregard for her friend's wellbeing, but she didn't get the chance.

"Everyone, this is serious." No one argued against Orihime's words. They could see it in her eyes. "Something's wrong."

"With what?" Sado prompted gently.

_With everything!_ Orhimie opened and closed her mouth a few times. How could she possibly begin to explain what was wrong with the world? Maybe… maybe she should try reminding them of their missing friend first. Maybe everything else would fall into place like it had for her. It was worth a try. "Kurosaki-hun is missing."

Blank stares all around.

"Kurosaki...kun?" Tatsuki tipped her head. "I know the name: Karin and Yuzu are regulars at the dojo. I didn't think you knew them, Orihime. But 'kun'? Do they have a missing cousin or something?"

"Not a cousin. Their brother: Ichigo. He's—" _our friend_ "—our age."

"Orihime…" Tatsuki's voice was careful, "If they had a brother, I'm pretty sure I would have seen him. Are… are you sure you didn't just have a really vivid dream?"

No recollection.

Only concerned eyes questioning her mental state.

Orihime's heart sank. Of all the people, her friend Tatsuki had known Ichigo the longest; way before all the supernatural stuff started happening in their lives. For her to not know him… Tears pricked the edges of her eyes. "I-I didn't dream him!" Well, she _did_ but… "He's _real!_ He's tall and has spiky orange hair and scowls all the time and can see ghosts and… and…" The frustrated jumble of words tumbling from her mouth trailed off. The three people in front of her were exchanging concerned glances. Even Ishida's normally stoic visage was twisted with worry. Unable to just stand there under scrutiny, Orihime turned and dashed back inside, ignoring the shouts of her friends at her back; pushing through the crowded hallways until she was out the front door. She didn't stop running until she reached the river where she collapsed onto her knees, unable to hold back the flood of despair any longer.

She wasn't quite sure how long she stayed there, but by the time her crying had turned to sniffles there were more than a dozen missed calls from Tatsuki. Orihime rubbed her nose on her sleeve and typed out a quick 'I went home. wasn't feeling well. I'll be okay. Don't worry' message.

Sniffing again, she suddenly felt self-conscious about having a meltdown in public. Thankfully, there were only a few people milling around. Orihime looked again and revised that assumption. The broken chains affixed to their chests rattled like soft wind chimes. Not people— spirits. Orihime could see them now. She honestly wished she could have used her Shun Shun Rikka to convince her friends of the truth, but she was certain they wouldn't be able to see it. The fairies would have been as invisible as the ghosts were to Orihime before she remembered everything.

With a deep breath, she got to her feet and slowly made her way home.

She stayed home from school the day after, unwilling to face the barge of questions and concerns from Tatsuki. Around 3 pm, there was a knock at her door. Untangling herself from the nest of blankets, Orihime padded to the foyer and tugged open the door.

She was met with soft eyes and dark hair.

"Oh. Kuramoto-kun. What are you doing here?"

"I brought your books. Tatsuki said you weren't feeling well and left in the middle of the day. I thought I'd bring stuff for your assignments so you wouldn't have to worry about falling behind." His voice was soft, quiet, passive.

Orihime blinked, taking the stack of books and papers. "Thanks." They stood for an awkward moment, unsure of how to continue.

Kuramoto rubbed at the back of his neck, glancing away. "Well I, uh, I should go. Let you get some rest. Feel better, alright?"

"…Yeah."

He left without another word and she pulled the door shut. Tatsuki had most likely set him up to bring her the books and stuff. Orihime's friends all knew about her crush. The brief pause would have been the perfect time to ask him in for tea or something. The Orihime from a week ago would have jumped at the chance. Talking with Kuramoto usually left her feeling flustered and giddy. Now she just felt uncertain. She had felt nothing during their brief exchange. How could she? The returning memory of Ichigo had brought with it all the emotions associated with him. She had held his hand before giving herself up to Hueco Mundo, admitting her desire to fall in love with him in every possible lifetime. She wasn't about to give up on that promise.

Carelessly depositing the books on the coffee table, she retreated again to her room to sleep. Her thoughts were filled with orange hair and amber eyes.

-0-

The week passed by in a sluggish haze. Orihime had mostly convinced Tatsuki, Ishida, and Chad that she had just been running a fever and imagined this so-called 'Ichigo' in her delirium. She knew they didn't really believe her, but at least they had stopped hounding her about it.

It seemed like getting Ichigo back would just be something she had to do by herself.

If only she knew where to begin.

She started with internet searches, hoping to find out if there was anyone else who had experiences similar to hers. Aliens seemed to be the most common explanation listed. Though she found a handful of cool sci-fi books to check out, nothing actually helpful arose.

Her next idea was to go to the Kurosaki household and see if any of them felt like someone was missing from their family. Isshin, she knew, had some strong link to the supernatural. Or, at least he did in whatever alternative-timeline thing she knew him from. Her ability to sense reiatsu strength was limited, so she wasn't sure the man still had powers in this world. It ended up not mattering because Orihime chickened out of the visit halfway to the clinic. Something about approaching the family with a wave and a 'By the way, you're supposed to have an elder son' didn't feel right.

So Orihime was stuck. Stuck and frustrated and beginning to wonder if she really was going crazy.

The break she desperately needed happened one Wednesday evening and came in the form of a familiar, dark-haired shinigami.

Tatsuki had invited The Girls out for some ice cream and it was one of the few days Orihime managed to push the thought of her missing friend out of her mind. They talked and laughed just like old times, and before any of them could realize it, 5 o'clock rolled around and Tatsuki had to run to make it to the dojo for the evening lessons. The whole assembly had pretty much fallen apart not long after.

Orihime took a detour by the convenience store, hoping to get some oranges and parsnips for a new recipe she had been dying to test out. The store didn't have any parsnips, so she went with turnips instead. Stepping back into the street, her attention was gripped by a demonic, screaming roar that sent a shiver up her spine. A hollow. Apparently they still existed. She took off in its direction.

Her senses led her to a small side-road not far away. The hollow was a gross worm-like thing with two tails and a nasty circle of teeth. Oh. Someone was already fighting it. Orihime paused upon seeing very distinctly Rukia-sized shinigami dancing around the monster. Closer inspection proved the shinigami to be Rukia- _shaped_ as well.

The hollow didn't seem particularly strong, but its twin tails thrashed about and tossed away any potential attack to its mask. While the hollow was distracted with fending off Rukia's advances, Orihime steeled her nerve and called forth Tsubaki. The gold light shot like an arrow through the hollow, splitting its head before it even saw it coming.

"Rukia-chan!" Orihime sprinted towards the girl, arms outstretched.

Rukia dodged out of the way on instinct, almost leading to Orihime sprawled out on the ground. She caught herself before that happened.

"Hey! You should know better than to sneak up on someone with a sword!" Rukia yelped in annoyance. Classic Rukia.

Orihime laughed anxiously and rubbed the back of her head. "Ah... sorry I just—"

"Wait... you can see me?"

Orihime tried her best not to let the disappointment fill her mind. The way Rukia had initially reacted had given her a spark of false hope.

"You..." Rukia's eyes widened in realization as something clicked. "You know my name. How? Who are you? What did you do to that hollow?"

"Oh. I uh... I guess you don't remember me. I'm Inoue Orihime."

"Remember you?" Rukia tilted her head in contemplation.

"Look, I know you just met me and I'm probably not making sense right now but I need to ask you something: does the name 'Kurosaki Ichigo' mean anything to you?"

How much had Rukia forgotten? Obviously she still knew about hollows and stuff. Maybe this was what Orihime needed. Maybe—

Violet eyes blinked a few times. "Ichi...go? Like... strawberries?"

Oof. There went that lead.

Orihime deflated, shoulders sagging.

Rukia watched in growing discomfort, "Hey hey! Sorry! Is this 'Kurosaki Ichigo' important? Why do you think I would know him?"

Orihime nodded. "He's very important. He's my friend and..." Leap of faith time. Maybe this wasn't the end of her searching, "...kind of a shinigami."

" _Kind of_ a shinigami? How can someone be _kind of_ a shinigami!?" Rukia said, incredulous.

"It's kind of a long story..."

Orihime was interrupted again by Rukia grabbing her wrist. "Hold on. Come with me."

She stumbled along after the dark-haired girl and tried to not think about how the situation appeared to the normal people walking by. The people who couldn't see the shinigami and took notice of the weird girl hobbling along with one arm outstretched like a zombie.

"W-where are we going?" Orihime called

Rukia didn't pause or turn around to answer. "Urahara Kisuke. He's an old captain of the Gotei 13. Decided office life wasn't for him and faked his own death to move to the Human World. At least, that's what he claims. I think he faked his death just to see if he could. He's a shady rat, but if weird shinigami stuff is happening, then he's the one to go to."

Urahara. Orihime could have smacked her forehead. With all the new stuff she was remembering, it had slipped her mind that he might still be around as a potential resource. If anyone would be willing to indulge in her fantasies and attempt to find a grain of truth it would be him. She hoped he wasn't too different from the other Urahara in her memories.

The shabby candy shop was exactly as it was in her mind's eye. The faded green and white sign hung above shoji doors propped opened like a yawning mouth. The darkness inside was absolute and mysterious. A clack of geta signaled the man's arrival.

"My my, Rukia... it's been a while since you stopped by my humble establishment. Oh? I see you've brought a friend. How exciting."

Rukia began talking with Urahara about the recent happenings and trying to explain the strange girl she had dragged along. Said strange girl was not really paying attention though, too focused on the man in front of her. Urahara Kisuke looked almost exactly as she remembered. Almost. He had the same stubbled face and perpetually tired eyes. The one glaring difference was the bucket hat perched atop his head was obnoxiously pink. And glittery.

Okay.

That change was certainly unexpected.

Orihime was certain that the last time she saw Urahara— whenever that was— his hat was white with green stripes.

The shopkeeper turned to her, hiding half of his face behind an equally pink fan. "My associate here claims you have an interesting story to tell that involves a shinigami who may or may not exist. I have to say, you have piqued my interest. Please, come inside." He turned with a whirl of his green coat and disappeared into the shop.

The trio gathered around the low, round table in the back. Orihime briefly wondered where the others were, but decided that question was of fairly low priority. A mug of lukewarm tea that smelled bitter was pushed in front of her. The shinigami watched her expectantly.

"Alright miss..."

"Inoue."

"Miss Inoue. Please, go ahead."

She chewed her lip for a moment, worried that this would end the same way it did when she tried to tell her friends. No. These people already knew about spiritual stuff. She had to try. For Ichigo. So, she began to speak, telling everything she could remember: her classmate attaining shinigami powers, breaking in to Soul Society to rescue Rukia, Aizen betrayal, being kidnapped and taken hostage in Hueco Mundo, Ichigo's defeat of Aizen and the loss of his powers, The fullbringers and Ichigo becoming a shinigami again, and finally the horrific Quincy war that nearly destroyed the three realms. Everything.

Silence reigned when Orihime finally finished retelling it all. She felt her face burn hot under the scrutiny. _Please don't call me a liar! Please don't call me a liar! Please don't_ —

Urahara sighed, breaking the stalemate. "Well, Miss Inoue, you certainly have spun quite the yarn for us." He tipped his ridiculous hat to shadow his eyes, "Let's unpack it, shall we?"


	3. -Memories of Somebody-

Rukia scrubbed a hand over her tired face, looking between the room's occupants with a defeated sigh. The past hour had been taken up by Urahara gently prodding Orihime for more details of her wild tale and the young woman responding with increasingly irrational claims.

"Urahara," The younger shinigami shook her head, "you don't actually believe all this, do you? I mean... Seireitei threatening to execute me for saving a human life? Nii-sama going along with it without complaint? Aizen-taichou being a megalomaniac with a god complex?"

Orihime swallowed back a reply. It hurt being called a liar, but patience was something in which she was quite skilled.

The shopkeeper scratched at his chin "I will admit, what you say certainly seems outlandish. These... Quincies, you said? I've certainly never heard of such humans possessing the ability to kill hollows with arrows. Though the idea is certainly fascinating. As for everything else, well... I can't say I can imagine Sosuke ever betraying the Gotei 13 like that. He's one of the most devoted captains I've ever laid eyes on." Rukia nodded along in agreement. Orihime held her breath. "But, I hesitate to dismiss your story outright."

Success!

"You seem to know quite a lot about shinigami for a normal human; including specific details of the personal lives of Kuchiki-fukutaichou and I. Far too much to be coincidence or guesswork."

Orihime beamed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable look on Rukia's face.

Kisuke continued, "I can't speak to all of the changes you claim to have witnessed, but I do know that it is possible for memories to be altered and individuals to be removed or added. There was a hollow I studied years back that, when it attacked a person, it erased that person from everyone's memories. It could be possible that something like that has occurred." He drifted off, muttering to himself as his mind worked at lightning-speeds to figure out the puzzle presented to him.

"If it's true, then why would she be the one to remember?" Rukia spoke up, still not convinced, "And, if memories can be changed, then how can we be sure that it wasn't Inoue who has gained false memories?"

"That is one of my hypotheses." Urahara added.

Orihime's blood ran cold and the progress she had been making towards the truth disappeared in a flash. False memories? It was certainly possible. She was the only one who recalled this strange alternate timeline of events. The manipulated friendship that Tsukishima had forced upon her burned in her mind.

But thinking of Ichigo felt different. There was a raw emotion so powerful churning through her thoughts, a tether so strong it made Tsukishima's false bonds burn away in the mere presence of Ichigo's conviction. She would not doubt. Something had happened to Ichigo and she would be the one to save him.

Come to think of it, a similar thing had happened when Rukia had been taken back to Soul Society. Everyone had forgotten about her and a new student had taken her seat the next morning. Strange. Perhaps a clue pointing to Soul Society's involvement in all of this? But then why would Rukia and Urahara not know of him?

"Inoue-san, Rukia-fukutaichou said you possess powers of your own. Would it be too much to ask for a demonstration?"

Wordlessly, Orihime called her Shun Shun Rikka forward and, one by one, showed off the various forms she could use for attack, defense, and healing. Urahara watched with rapt fascination, scribbling down notes faster than anyone could follow and pulling out weird instruments to measure who knows what.

Finally, he seemed to be satisfied with what he had observed. "Thank you, Inoue-san. That was very informative." Kisuke couldn't keep the grin off his face. "I do have one more request. I have a few more tests I would like to run, and I would like to ask to borrow one of your hair pins for further research.."

Orihime clutched her hair pins tight, eyes wide. They were special! A present from Sora before he left— died— It was her way of protecting herself and those around her.

Sensing the obvious fear and distrust, Kisuke waved his hands to placate the startled girl, "Ah! Don't worry, it's nothing that will damage them! I'll have it back to you by the end of tomorrow. And, if my suspicions are correct, you don't require both of them to use your Shun Shun Rikka powers. They should all be able to be accessed from whichever one you keep."

Unease still stirred Orihime's stomach, but she put on a brave face and carefully deposited one of the hair pins on the table.

Kisuke bowed in appropriate reverent appreciation, "Thank you. I will be certain to return it to you quickly and without incident. Now, it's gotten late. Kuchiki-fukutaichou should be able to escort you back to your house."

Rukia rolled her eyes at being voluntold to be a babysitter, but nonetheless got to her feet and stood over Orihime. Orihime got up and sent a longing look towards the glittery hair ornament on the table.

"Don't worry," Rukia said softly, a small smile on her lips, "I'll break Kisuke's fingers if he doesn't hold to his promise."

With that, the two exited the shop and began the long walk across town in silence.

-0-

Tatsuki wasn't at school the next day. Orihime noted her absence immediately. It wasn't like Tatsuki to sleep in or ditch class, and when Orihime checked her phone, there weren't any messages to explain her absence. She typed out a quick text of her own, sending it for whenever her absent friend was available to talk.

Despite various forms of reassurance, Orihime couldn't stop the anxiety spiraling in her brain. Tatsuki wasn't around and, although a few other people commented on her lack of attendance, she couldn't stop the irrational panic that her best friend would poof out of existence like Ichigo had. Her eyes scanned the classroom door; wild fantasies of men in black suits bursting in and wiping all their memories played like a bad movie across the back of her mind.

"Inoue-san! Are you paying attention?"

She blinked, finally noticing that everyone was looking at her. Uh-oh. "S-Sorry sensei!" Orihime stammered out.

The teacher repeated his question and Orihime's thoughts were dragged to the much less fantastical task of conjugating 'are' in English.

Her fears were put to rest at lunch when she was finally able to check her phone. Tatsuki had read her message and sent a response.

Karate-Queen (BFF 3): Srry, I wkoe up late w/ a killer headbach

Karate-Queen (BFF 3): *headache

Karate-Queen (BFF3): Could you come over ltr?

Orihime breathed a sigh of relief. It was a shame that Tatsuki wasn't feeling well, but at least she didn't seem in danger of vanishing from the face of the earth. She made the decision to bring her friend some steamed pork buns for dinner. A hearty meal was just the thing for an aching body, she always said!

Plan in place, she skipped out the door after the dismissal bell. Cooking was something that always calmed Orihime down, an activity that allowed her to get lost in stirring and measuring and tasting until a perfect product was completed. Years of living mostly alone had given her a wide knowledge base of recipes, though most people tended to shy away from the ingredient combinations she often experimented with. Hey, more her her! She managed to refrain from adding anything Tatsuki would label "too bizarre" to the pork buns. These were a gift, after all.

Bundling up the buns with a few servings of tea leaves, Orihime left the house humming a meandering tune. Tatsuki's house was a little ways away but not so far that it would be dark when she arrived. A stiff breeze blew through the area and Orihime held the warm meal tighter. The mid-September weather had turned cool, the sharp air teasing promises of the colder weather yet to come.

Suddenly, a shiver ran through Orihimie's skin, not originating from the surrounding temperature. Screams reached her ears and she was dashing into the nearby street to find the source before she could think twice. A medium-sized hollow resembling a mantid was upturing a car. People screamed and ran, unable to see the monster causing the havoc. Actually, if they had been able to see the monster they probably would have been running still. A young man stumbled around in the confused havoc, unknowingly nearing the unseen monster. The hollow, recognizing its advantage, raised a sickle-shaped claw to strike at the hapless civilian

The words "Shiten Kōshun!" spilled past Orihime's lips and the gold shield materialized between the human and the monster. The claw struck the center, Tsubaki absorbing the blow only to deal it back with a vengeance a moment later. The hollow hissed ahd disintegrated. Relieved pride swelled her chest as she confirmed that Urahara had been correct: she could call forth her powers from one hairpin alone.

The panicked people, somehow sensing the danger was over, began shakily picking their way over the remains of the sidewalk, edging away from the car lest it decide to randomly roll over again. Orihime looked over the scene with the perceptive gaze of one used to surveying battlefields. Just as she was about to give a mental 'all clear,' she noticed a single figure slumped nearby. In the commotion of fleeing the scene, everyone seemed to have overlooked someone. She approached, realizing that she recognized the figure. Groaning on the ground and dotted with minor cuts and scrapes was none other than Kurosaki Isshin.

Orihime's eyes narrowed a fraction, glancing left and then right. The street had been quickly vacated and only the doctor and her remained. With no one around to witness a miracle, she called forth Ayame and Shun'ō to close up the wounds. The process took almost no time at all. Orihime scurried away before the man could awaken and start asking questions.

-0-

Tatsuki met her at the door with messy hair and bags under her eyes.

"Sorry I'm late! I had to stop a hollow attack on the way here." Orihime belatedly realized her slip up when Tatsuki tensed up beside her. But instead of asking what a hollow was or giving an eye roll at Orihime's fantasies, her shoulders sagged and she kept her mouth shut.

Orihime babbled on cheerfully while Tatsuki nibbled on the pork buns in somber stillness. That was fine. Orihime was more than happy to fill the silence with nonsensical stories of what she had been up to lately.

"Hey Orihime," Tatsuki's set down her half-eaten diner, "I'm... sorry."

"Eh? Sorry for what?"

"For not believing you. Earlier, I mean. You told me about this 'Ichigo' person and I..." She trailed off, weary eyes focusing on something very far away. "I had a dream last night. But it didn't feel like a dream, you know? I... I think I saw him. Ichigo." She turned and met Orihime's eyes. "You really weren't kidding when you said his hair was orange."

A hundred emotions rushed through Orihime's heart, followed by a million questions flooding her thoughts.

"He was here in Karakura Town, and there was someone else; some guy dressed in white with butterfly wings." Tatsuki curled in on herself, fully aware of how bizarre it sounded to say out aloud. "He... he could kill people without even touching them. I—" She choked.

Orihime scooted closer on the couch, wrapping her arms around Tatsuki's trembling shoulders. They stayed like that for a while, comforting each other. Though Orihime longed to get more information out of her friend, discretion stilled her tongue. Tatsuki would tell her more on her own terms. A shoulder to cry on is what she needed to be at the moment.

"I... D-don't know what's going on, H-Hime..." Tatsuki managed through hiccuping gasps of air. "It all felt so real. I was so... so scared."

"I know, Tatsuki-chan. I'm trying to figure it all out too. I found someone who is wanting to help."

She invited Tatsuki to come with her, but the dark-haired girl shook her head, wanting only to stay indoors and go to bed early. The conversation gradually turned lighter, though the revelation hung over the two like a thick cloud.

A few hours later, Orihime left with a quick hug and a shared promise to report back to each other if new things were remembered. No sooner had she stepped back into the cool night air than her phone started ringing. The number was unknown, but some part of her mind urged her to answer it.

"Hello"

"Hi! Is this Inoue-san?" It was Urahara. "I've finished my analysis of your hair pin. You may stop by the shop at your earliest convenience to retrieve it."

She wasted no time in making her way to the shop. Rukia and Urahara— absent his distracting hat— were already waiting for her in the back room. Her hairpin was placed delicately on a velvet cloth in the center of the table. Kisuke once again began the meeting by pouring cups of something that was probably supposed to be tea.

The sound of a pink fan snapping shut brought the girls to attention. "Now! I would like to share what I have discovered through my research. I can say with confidence that your powers appear to be fullbring-adjacent in the manner that you channel your natural reiryoku through an object of great personal significance. However, while the few fullbringers I came into contact with before had distinctly hollow-based reiatsu in their powers, yours seems to come from something else entirely." From under the table, Urahara produced a series of charts and graphs that made absolutely no sense to Orihime. She looked to Rukia and was relieved to see a shared look of confusion. Urahara continued without explaining the specifics. "I extracted a sample of the power core and tested it against a reiatsu database containing almost all known reiryoku signatures of shinigami, hollows, and any supernaturally-powered humans." Urahara paused, letting the tension build.

"And?" Rukia and Orihime said in unison, on the edge of their seat.

"No match." A sly smile spread across the ex-captain's face. "Not a single hit."

Orihime sat in stunned silence, feeling the weight of the question and the stares of two people heavy upon her.

"What... what does that even mean?" Rukia whispered

"It means," Urahara's smile bloomed into a full-blown grin, "We've found a piece of something that doesn't exist."

Ichigo.

Eyes wide in understanding, Orihime's mouth fell open. It was proof— the proof she had been searching for.

It was Rukia who put a damper on the celebration. Brow furrowed and lips creased in a frown, she studied the charts with a stubborn intent, willing the numbers and lines to make sense."Doesn't exist... If that's the case—" She turned her attention to Orihime, "—if what you're saying is true— then there's something far bigger going on here than simple memory manipulation."

Urahara only smiled more. It wasn't hard for Orihime to guess that this was the first time he had been faced with a decent challenge in a long time and he looked forward to picking it apart with all the anticipation of a kid on Christmas. Orihime's mind flashed back to what Tatsuki said about the mysterious man who had frightened her so.

Any further discussion on the topic was unfortunately interrupted by the door being opened so forcefully it was almost pulled from its sliding track. Isshin stood in the entryway, chest heaving and frantic eyes scanning the room before narrowing in on Urahara. His muscles went rigid.

"You!" He growled, and crossed the room in two strides, ignoring the stunned girls.

"Oh dear." The shopkeeper said as a hand roughly grabbed the front of his robes and hauled him to his feet.

Isshin shook the man in his grip, "What did you do this time? Where is he!?"

Urahara's eyes narrowed and he let the slightest amount of threat bleed into his tone. "Now now, sir. I'm afraid I have to ask you to unhand me or—"

"Cut the crap, Kisuke!"

Silence took the room.

Isshin's shoulders trembled, his voice close to breaking. "Where is Ichigo? Where is my son?"


End file.
